The Gräfenberg Spot

Or, how Eden discovered her g-spot.

Author's note: I included the diagram because there is much debate in the scientific community about the g-spot and it's existence. But those of us who've gotten a woman off from her g-spot or can have g-spot orgasms know better.

~~~

Since Aimee began raving to me about her g-spot orgasms several years ago, I started to get curious what that would be like. You see, my g-spot, I am convinced, is nomadic. It was long debated among partners of mine whether or not I actually had one. After all, I do not cum from intercourse, and I rarely moan. In short, I did not believe I had a g-spot. As far as I was concerned, it was a club that I was excluded from.

Then, about a year ago, I got very into the idea of finding my g-spot, only I had no idea how to do that. I bought a hitachi, and an extension for it. The extension now collects dust in my dresser drawer, the only thing it succeeded in doing was make me have to pee really really badly. I gave up on it, and went on to have monumental clitoral orgasms. I had found my niche. Or so it seemed.

The first time I met Jefferson, he went to find my g-spot. And I ultimately had to pee. My body simply was not having anything to do with it, it hurt and I found the pressure on my bladder irritating. This developed into a pattern, someone would finger me, and I would ultimately end up in the bathroom trying to ease my tightened muscles enough to relieve myself. Eventually, I gave up on trying to find my g-spot. I had found it in plenty of women, I knew what to look for, I just didn't think I had it in myself.

Then something happened, Jefferson and I were fucking one afternoon, and I had shifted my hips so that they were tilted upwards, and I felt something, something that made me moooaan. I gasped for air, and my face flushed, but after a few thrusts, something shifted, and it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

Among our sexual explorations of one another, one such afternoon resulted in the discovery that we could get at my g-spot through my ass. Jefferson went down on me while fingering my ass; I roared like a lioness when I came.

We were slowly unfolding the petals of this most elusive of flowers.

A while later, the morning of a sleep over, he slipped his fingers into my folds, and I'll be damned if I didn't gasp, my face flushed and my hair felt electric. It was like my g-spot had grown overnight, like undeveloped real estate that suddenly had immense value. In that moment my snatch was the anatomical equivalent of the Chrysler Building. It didn't last for long, it was too much for me. But damn, it was amazing.

I vented my frustrations to Aimee, who said it was okay, these things take time to wear down, after all, Rome was not built in a day. And the first orgasm of one kind or another is always hard the first time when someone else is doing it. Not that I've had a g-spot orgasm.

Then an amazing thing happened. I discovered that if I curled myself into almost fetal position so that my back was curved forward and my chin was against my chest, and I lifted my pelvis it gave me the best access to my g-spot I had ever had. Jefferson began to fuck me in earnest at my moans. I wanted to open my eyes, to look at him like I like to sometimes, but my eyes were locked shut. My cunt was engulfed in the most incredible fire, I would have let it consume me in an instant. I did not want this to stop. Ever.

My back began to burn, but I didn't care, I wanted this so badly, and I had finally found what I had been looking for. We fucked like this for I don't how long, and then pain shot up my shoulder and I had to stop, to relax my muscles and ease the nerve in my shoulder that gives me grief sometimes.

I laid back against the pillows, gasping for breath and gazing into his blue eyes.

"Did you almost cum?" He asked, gazing down at me as he gently fucked me.

"Yeah, I almost did," I said, a small smile dancing on my lips.